


"Bonds"

by Coralrose10



Category: School Ties (1992)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-26 15:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13860591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coralrose10/pseuds/Coralrose10
Summary: Unable to sleep after being viciously bullied, David Greene—who has just been “outed” as Jewish at a Christian prep school in the 1950’s—has come, alone, to the school’s chapel to reflect.





	"Bonds"

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the characters of David Greene (Brendan Fraser) and Rip Van Kelt (Randall Batinkoff) in the movie SCHOOL TIES.

**"Bonds"**

   “This time I don’t give a damn if old Bartram finds me here,” David muttered bitterly as he pushed the unlocked chapel door, which yielded easily to his weight. “He and his school and the 200 years of tradition can all go to hell.”

And yet the chapel of St. Matthew’s School was David’s refuge. It had been a place of prayer on Rosh Hashanah; it was a place of peace tonight, when his emotions were in turmoil. For David’s tenuous cover was now officially blown: to his classmates he had been outed as a Jew. Boy, had those WASPs been wised up. Their new, working-class friend from Scranton was not a Protestant; he was a Jew. He was not the all-American golden boy; he was a Jew. Yes, the pretense was all gone, and David’s future hung in balance.

“But how in God’s name did Dillon find out?” David asked himself, as he curtly flipped a wall switch. The white-washed chapel interior became luminous. Aw, well, what did it matter? The main thing was, Charlie Dillon hadn't been able to keep his smirking mouth shut.  No, he'd told the other guys—in the locker room, after the St. Luke's game, with David standing right there. Charlie had baited David with a "Jew joke." Some friend. Now Chris Reece, David’s roommate, was the only friend he had. And who knew how long Chris would want to endure being called a Jew lover.

Taking off his raincoat, David sank into a pew and buried his face in his hands. If he stayed at the school, it would be as an outcast. He had no other type of future at St. Matthew’s. He thought of his father, who’d sent him off to the New England prep school with a Yiddish blessing. Then David had rolled his eyes at the corniness. Now he wanted his father to bless him again…

The chapel door creaked; David heard the rain outside. “Who’s there?” he demanded. The hostility in his voice belied the tears in his eyes.

“It’s Rip.”

Rip Van Kelt. At first, David had smiled at that crazy name: Rip Van Winkle, Rip Van Kelt. Now he frowned. “We’ve got nothing to say to each other,” he retorted, turning to face the lanky boy. “I thought you were better than the others, more mature. Yet you laughed right along with Dillon and that little prick, McGoo. I guess being on the Honor Code committee doesn’t count for a whole lot, huh, Rip?”

He let out his breath. Was he being too harsh? After all, Rip had tried hard to keep the peace during his and Dillon’s locker-room brawl. Basically, Rip was a thoughtful fellow. David drew in his breath, preparing to apologize. But Rip got there first.

“I know I laughed, David, and I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

David was skeptical. “It’s so easy to throw off prejudice?”

“I’m not prejudiced. It’s just—it’s a hard thing to upset the apple cart, if you know what I mean. Like you said tonight, I’m a coward. I mean…well, I don’t have to tell _you_ , David. You know how all that peer stuff works.  A guy'll say anything—or say nothing—to keep from being the odd man out.”

 "Or the odd _Jew_ out," thought David guiltily.  Aloud, he demanded, “What about the swastika sign I found in my room?”

 Rip averted his eyes. “Dillon made that. I didn’t help him--but I didn’t stop him, either. So I’ll say it again--I'm a coward, David, and I'm sorry.”

A bowed head was the only reply David could manage; “I forgive you” were words he could not bring himself to utter.

Rip licked his lips, then grimaced. “Wow, I’m bleeding,” he remarked. “I didn’t realize it till now.”

“Dillon must have hit you real hard while you were holding him off me,” observed David, with wonder. Instinctively, he reached into his blazer pocket, took out a crisp, folded handkerchief, and held it out to Rip. “Here.”

“Thanks,” smiled Rip, accepting the handkerchief and pressing it to the cut on his lip.

He seemed so appreciative; David was touched. Clearing his throat, he said, “Rip, remember when Mr. Cleary shamed Connors in front of the whole French class? Afterward, I went up to Connors and put my hand on his shoulder—you know, just to show him I cared. And what did he do? Shook my hand off and stormed away! You’re not much like Connors, are you.”

Rip blushed. “I’m _too_ much like Connors. We’re from different places—but, really, Greenwich is no better than Dorchester.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, _I_ heard the ‘greedy, money-grubbing Shylocks’ stuff just as much as _he_ heard it; it’s just that the people _I_ heard it from were more…polite. But here’s the ironic thing, David: I never _met_ a Jew until I met you.”

His face flushed with shame and indignation, David gasped, “And am _I_ …?”

He throat was tight; he looked the rest of his question, which Rip answered intuitively.

“No, David. You’re nothing like they said you’d be.”

The strangest feeling came over David. He was chilled…then he was warm…and then he was tearful.

“Hey, now,” whispered Rip, embracing him. David returned the gesture, and firmly patted the frailer boy’s back.

“Friends?” offered Rip.

“Friends,” agreed David.

Not caring who might spot them, the two boys headed—arm in arm—out of the chapel and back toward the school.


End file.
